Sometimes a film needs the right audience. I was stating the obvious to Ma-an Asuncion Dagñalan, the filmmaker behind the phenomenal Blue Room. But it was good, proving the highly apparent: at the SM Cinema in Ormoc, her film about a rock band composed of relatively privileged kids, exposed to the realities of justice and questionable police protocols, triggered some strong responses from the young audience present that morning.
The film begins with these young individuals gathering at their usual haunt. All are carrying emotional baggage common among persons their age. Between them, old hurts have happened. A member who has disappeared for a while in search for the meaning in his life has resurfaced; this brings back some memories not exactly happy. An ex-girlfriend also arrives at the scene while the former boyfriend remains keenly aware of what she has done to him. A fight ensues and they all leave after that.
In the car, they indulge in a bit of drugs, not the kind that should alarm anyone, at least those who are into it. But they drive past the checkpoint and miss out on a traffic sign deliberately hidden. This is by far too common but we know the consequences. Ignorance of the law excuses no one. Blindness to signs…oh well, that does not excuse anyone either.
What happens is a full-blown nightmare as the policemen arrest the group. They are introduced to a kind of investigation where not even the most intelligent interlocution or any wayward questioning has no peer. As if that is not enough, they meet the chief of police (Soliman Cruz, deliciously crooked and astutely evil) who has all the tricks in the world of injustice and corruption in his fat belly. The young men and one woman are subjected to pressures short of physical torture. They are forced to negotiate and, in the process, expose who they are.
All this did not escape the attention of the young audience during the Talk Back that followed the screening.
“Was there a backlash at you?” “How did you deal with the pressure?” “Were there no complaints from the organization [the police] referred to in the film?” “Were you ever afraid?’
These were the questions—and more—asked of Ma-an Asuncion Dagnalan at the end of the screening of Blue Room.
“Why is it called ‘Blue Room’?” Finally, that question came up.
It is rare that in film screenings (unless it is a premiere) outside Metro Manila are the filmmakers ever present. It was a treat therefore for the audience, mostly composed of senior high school students from different educational institutions around Ormoc, to be able to ask the person behind the film what she wanted to send as a message to them.
In the introduction, I reminded the audience that there is such a theory in the arts about the author being “dead,” meaning that when one wants to understand and interpret a work of art, there is no need to communicate to the person behind the art form. That one’s apprehension of the art piece—a play, a song, a painting, a film—depends on the viewer as well. But even as I talked about this theoretical standpoint, I felt it wise to assure them that this time, with the director being around, we could all say, the author is alive and she is here.
Whereupon, we all proceeded to what we were there in Ormoc in the first place—we were re-introducing the art form called cinema and doing it through an exercise called “how to read a film.”
Reading a film means not only viewing a film as entertainment but also seeing it as a source of discourse. With its filmmaker being present, Blue Room became an issue not only about the injustices around us and how a system perpetuates social inequalities; the film was also about how a woman filmmaker navigates important issues in her society.
At the center of this new way of reading films, Ma-an Asuncion Dagñalan spoke of how it was important for her to tell the truth via a popular medium called cinema. But to do that, there was a need for preparation and research. For the filmmaker, to be able to lay down the facts, one must look for ways to dig them through the many filters and gaps in society.
What is a talk-back without the admiration of the fans/cineastes of the actors?
It must be said that, outside of the compelling story (the screenplay, cowritten by Asuncion-Dagñalan with Siege Ledesma, has been nominated in many award-giving bodies and winning in some), the characters were all fleshed out with such empathy because of the actors: JK Labajo, Elijah Canlas, Harvey Bautista, Keoni Jin, and Nour Hosshmand, the only female in the cast.
Emphasized during the open forum was the fact that, of all the characters in the story, Rocky was the one who made sense, was rational and unwavering. She was also a woman. As was the film director, Ma-An Asuncion-Dagnalan, who came across as no-nonsense and brave.
All this was not lost on the audience even if some of the questions thrown were hiding many anxieties, such as: are the youth ready for this kind of tough cinema? Are we ready to act on the ills of societies?
The film Blue Room was produced by Ma-Ann Asuncion Dagñalan, Harlene Bautista, Will Fredo, Ferdinand Lapuz, and co-produced by Carlo Obispo and Maylyn Villalon Enriquez. It streams on Netflix. It won the Best Foreign Film at the 19th edition of LA Femme International Film Festival (LAFIFF) in Los Angeles, California.
The event was done in observance of the National Arts Month and with the cooperation of the local government of Ormoc and the local tourism office. The executive committee on cinema under the National Commission for Culture and the Arts was the main agency spearheading the celebration.